


Each Other's Half

by 1000trillionpercent



Category: Until Dawn (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, M/M, POV Second Person, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-29
Updated: 2016-02-29
Packaged: 2018-05-23 20:53:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6129748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1000trillionpercent/pseuds/1000trillionpercent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p></p><div class="center">
  <p><br/>The way he looks at you makes you think he's looking at a collection of everything he's ever loved or enjoyed. He looks at you like you're the best thing in the world and seeing that much-concentrated emotion every time your eyes meet is so...<br/>Indescribable<br/></p>
</div>
            </blockquote>





	Each Other's Half

Being back is... something. You've endured weeks of texts from uneasy friends and their contemplation of backing out. It was, different, yes. The thought of going back made _everyone_  uneasy, even if they didn't want to admit it. Even your love, in all his attempts to be unfeeling and strong, his anxiety is always written in his eyes. You had gotten an earful from all your friends about their level of discomfort over the situation as a whole. But their feelings weren't much of a concern for you when placed next to your love's.

 

After everyone settled in, and he tugs you off into his room the moment he's given the opportunity. The door is shut but, without given an indication of his intentions you’re left standing just a few steps from his door, feeling awkward and confused. You’re not sure where to start, it’s been such a long day, so you opt for one of the elephants in the room.

 

"Are you sure everything's okay with, uh, being--"

 

"I don't want to think about that shit." He interjects in a soft and sweet voice, smoothing your sweater against your chest.

 

You open your mouth to insist, but think better of it and decide not to press the matter. If ten years of trial and error has taught you one thing, it's that if Josh doesn't want to discuss something, there's no way of weaseling it out of him.

 

He looks up at you and you can't help the way your heart aches. Everything in him makes you melt. And the way he looks at you, it's this sparkle and this genuine sense of love and joy in his eyes. The way he looks at you makes you think he's looking at a collection of everything he's ever loved or enjoyed. He looks at you like you're the best thing in the world and seeing that much-concentrated emotion every time your eyes meet is so... Indescribable. It makes you nervous more times than reasonable thinking states it should. Something about it, you feel so undeserving of a level of passion that intense.

 

The silence between the two of you is comforting. Although, you don't mind when he takes the opportunity to lean up and capture your lips in a kiss. When he pulls back, a whisper of his love ghosts against the corner your mouth. His hand slips under your jacket and pushes it off your shoulder, you're more than happy to assist the gesture and shrug the garment off onto the floor.

 

"Jesus, you always dress like you're scared of freezing to death." He teases, easing your sweater up your sides but stopping once he reaches your rib-cage.

 

"Because I am." You roll your eyes, nudging a side of his jacket off of his shoulder. "Some of us aren't immune to the cold. Especially enough that we could just walk out in this... Elaborate life-jacket." Josh gives an exhale of a laugh at that, releasing you to pull off the offending apparel.

 

A content sigh leaves you as his hand move back to your sides. "I might as well be dating a chihuahua." He insults in a playful tone.

 

At that, you can't help but chuckle a little, "That's a little kinky, even for you."

 

Josh rolls his eyes in a rather dramatic fashion before pulling you closer and resting his head against your shoulder. You're content to stay like this, your arms wrapped around his form and rocking him. His arms, circled around your lower back, give a gentle squeeze, almost as if he's reassuring himself that you're still actually here. He pulls back after a bit and places another kiss on your lips, this one a bit more insistent.

 

Ever the compliant boyfriend, you allow him to guide you backward, stopping as you feel the back of your calves Brush against the side of his bed. After a bit, you bend to sit and he leans over you to follow your mouth. When both of you separate for breath he takes to opportunity to tug your sweater off. Your reciprocation is pulling his flannel off, which he's more than eager to assist with. Lips meet again and he leans over you a bit more, you take the hint and scoot back, your final position being laying back, propping yourself up with your elbows. He straddles your lap and lifts a hand to remove your glasses, placing them on the bedside table before that hand returns to cradle your cheek. Your heart throbs against your chest and you're reminded of how _fucking lucky_  you are.

 

"I love you." When it leaves your mouth it's a whisper, but you see his eyes soften nonetheless.

 

His hand moved to the back of your neck and he pulls you into another kiss, and you move your weight to one hand as you snake one arm around the small of his back. You're so, so lucky. He pulls back for breath and licks his lips, whispering your name under his breath. You exhale a breath you didn't know you were holding, a sigh of his name leaving along with it.

 

"Are you... Sure?" You sputter.  

 

"I," He sighs, leaning forward and nuzzling himself into your neck, "I don't want to think about that-- them, every time I come back here." You feel him place a kiss to the crook of your neck. "I want to have something nice to remember when we go home. I don't," His words die in his throat and he presses his weight against you a bit harder as he recollects himself. "I don't want this place to always have that lingering feeling of..." He makes a vague circular hand gesture but you understand the intentions nonetheless, "Y'know? And watching Em and Jess's catfights and Mike and Matt's egotistical game of 'Who's the alpha?' isn't something that's going to help with that." A rather long pause, " _Yes_ , Chris."

 

He lifts his head after a few seconds of silence between you two. Your heart throbs against your chest as you close the space between the two of you and your lips meet again. You love him, you love him more than life itself, and you tell him in whispers and sighs against his lips in-between pecks. His lips follow as you at least attempt to pull back, though he gets the point as soon as your hand is on the hem of his tee and you start coaxing it upwards. He gives you the look that says you're his most precious thing in the world as he leans back to pull it off completely.

 

Next, his hands find the hem of your shirt. You hear the softest of complaints about your choice of layered clothing as he pushes your tank top up over your chest. That, too, is tossed aside, his hands busying themselves trailing along your exposed flesh. You bring him to a more heated kiss and he nips your bottom lip. Feeling that slightest tease of tongue, you welcome him without a second of hesitation. His tongue explores your mouth and he's acting as if this is the first time you've ever done this. He's _savoring_  every millisecond of this and you hate how your face heats up at the realization.

 

He's so completely perfect.

 

Your tongues meet and. Well, he's always been miles better at this than you. You find yourself mimicking his motions as your tongues move together. There's a lot of hope he doesn't mind that you've never quite picked up that skill. His fingers are in your hair and he's breathing rather harshly from his nose and a whimper leaves him as he finally breaks and rolls his lips against yours. God, he's so perfect. He's chosen to forgo oxygen as he presses against you fervently, you can't bring yourself to mind too much. You gasp for air with him in the short breaks he's allowing. You groan in tandem at the friction, and you're fully keyed up in a very short amount of time.

 

Josh decides he's had enough of waiting and takes the initiative to pull back and fiddle with the belt of your jeans. They're tugged down and off in no time and he's palming you through your boxers immediately. Your hips meet his hand and a groan leaves your throat. After a few seconds of shuffling, you’re now sitting almost completely upright, both hands holding your weight up behind you. Josh soon replaces his palm for his mouth and you can’t help the groan that leaves you at the warmth of his breath. The sound seems to please him if the upward curve or his lips is any indication.

 

Of course, he can't be contented with just that. Mouthing soon turns to kisses, then to his tongue tracing your trapped cock. He's a tease and you almost hate him for it. Josh makes a show of each kiss and long, drawn-out lick and you're certain you could get off on the visual alone without the simulation. A whine leaves you and you actually hear him chuckle, although his breathy and soft. You exhale something about him being a tease and he gives you his best 'I'm sorry but not really.' look before he hooks his fingers under the waistband of your pants and tugs them down.

 

The first course of action he takes is kissing along your thighs and your face _burns_. He notices, of course, he does, and that drives him to further drag out his activity. Something akin to a whimper leaves you and his enjoyment is written all over his face. He loves this, loves seeing you completely open and unguarded. It's a mindset that doesn't show often and you both know that. You trust him, and you love him more than anything you could ever imagine, you're his, you're all his, he's ruined you for anyone else.

 

He takes pity on you and moves forwards, taking you in his hand. Although, he isn't exactly one for mercy; he takes you by the base and presses kisses along your length. You're certain you heard a laugh come from him as you let one of your more desperate whines come from your throat. It takes several pleading gasps but he finally takes the crown into his mouth. He teases the slit with the tip of his tongue and you're certain you're going to kill over at any given moment.

 

"Please," It's breathy and your voice is almost hoarse, you're so overworked and he's eating this up like it's sustenance.

 

But no, he's decided to decline your pleas in favor of leaning over you and pressing another kiss to your lips. His hand, still wrapped around you, pumps you slow, and you do your best to muffle your gasps and sighs against his lips. The free hand pulls one of your wrists out from under you and guides your hand to his belt. Undressing him with one hand is a bit of a feat, made more difficult by the way his lips moved from your mouth to the side of your neck. You feel soft licks and bites mixed in with the pecks and you shudder. It's a matter of time before he takes the flesh in his mouth with intention of making a mark. The thought of walking away covered in visual signs of his love is equal parts embarrassing and enticing.

 

It's an embarrassingly long time before you're worked his belt off and finished wrestling with the button and zipper. You make up for lost time by tugging his jeans down and palming him, adoring the way his hips roll into your hand. His breathing gets just a bit more labored against your neck and you can't help the smile tugging at your lips.

 

"Chris," It's just the slightest bit strained and he presses his forehead to your shoulder.

 

"I love you." Your voice isn't much above a whisper.

 

The remainder of his clothing is hastily pushed down and kicked aside. He resumes his previous position of straddling you after snagging the bottle from his headboard. You kiss him while he works himself open, and you adore his every trembling breath. He gives slow, languid kisses in between pants against your lips and you love him, god, you love him.

 

He's putting on a show, rolling his hips against his hand, your name passing his lips in a bit more of a desperate tone than usual, and you fucking love him. You kiss him through his work, paying extra attention to his neck. He melts into your touch, the smile spreading across your face is completely unstoppable.  You’re quite certain he’s rushing himself at this point

 

Eventually, he decides he’s finished, not without chiding you for being a tease. You help him as he prepares you and lowers himself down, foreheads pressed together, the both of you sharing heavy breaths at the sensation. His hips roll against your body as you do your best not to move while he gets accustomed to the feeling. It takes a bit, but he begins moving. You join him, giving short, shallow thrusts upwards as he takes over most the effort in working your cock.

 

His gasps and groans are soft, you know he’s doing his best to stay quiet. Although, you’re certain everyone is off doing who-cares-what and far from earshot of the general level of noise he usually makes. You hear how shaky and heavy his breaths are, can practically feel the strain in his vocal chords as moans break free for just a second only to die down by his insistence to stay quiet. Your hands are on his hips, carefully watching his reaction as you guide his movements.When his muscles tense and his jaw goes slack, you know you’ve found it. He’s more than eager to move with your guidance, he gives you frantic and rough kisses to keep himself quiet (Though the success of that isn’t exactly great). His head eventually drops down to the crevice of your neck, you press a kiss to his temple as you listen to his panting and moans.

 

Your name leaves his throat and it’s heaven. He’s heaven. Everything about him is so entirely and unmistakably fucking _perfect_. You’re buried so deep in your pathetic, shameful puppy love. He raises his head suddenly, pressing a lingering kiss to your lips. He breaks apart only when he has to, curses rolling from his tongue. He’s close, he says your name as a warning, you wrap your hand around him to help, and he spills in a matter of seconds.  He keeps moving through your orgasm, then falls slack on top of you.

 

You take it upon yourself to pick up the effort, pulling out and nudging him to a more proper position on his bed. He gives a disgruntled groan as he’s forced to move but does so without further complaint. you join him on the other side of the bed, wrapping an arm around him as he nuzzles against your chest. A slurred and muffled ‘Love you’ leaves him, and once you return it the two of you lapse into a comfortable silence until he passes out.

**Author's Note:**

> [Follow me on tumblr](http://1000trillionpercent.tumblr.com)


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